A/N: Since my end note is kind of a word vomit, I'd like to take this opportunity to say that though this chapter isn't as heavy as some of the rest, it's still not super fun and I've had a similar thing happen to me and it kinda sucks. So, if reading about this would bother you or cause you to inflict harm upon yourself or others, please refrain from reading it. (I mean it; your mental health isn't worth reading a fic.)

(more A/N at the end)


The gang was having a picnic lunch a few weeks after graduation. For Alya and Adrien, university was just around the corner; Marinette and Nino were getting started with internships and a year off.

"So, um, I have news, guys." Marinette looked terrified, her fork forgotten in her food.

Alya put her sandwich down. "You can't just say that and not spill what's up! What is it?"

Marinette looked at each of them in turn and swallowed. "I'm gonna start going to a support group. For the, um, thing."

Adrien's face lit up. "That's great, Marinette! I hope it helps you. When we finally convinced my father to let me go, a support group was really beneficial to me. Not that it's the same thing, but I hope it works out for you."

Nino turned to him. "I didn't know you had gone to a support group."

"Oh! Yeah, I did. Nathalie talked him into it after I'd been asking for a few months. I think she showed him some study or statistics or something about recovering from grief and support groups that she may or may not have made up just to prove a point." Adrien grinned at them. "So, in conclusion, support groups can be great."

Alya took a sip of water, leaving the cap off when she put it down. "I totally agree. My mom went to one after her miscarriage and before she had the twins, and she always says how helpful it was to her.

Marinette frowned. "I didn't know your mom had a miscarriage."

"No? Right, it was before I knew you. I forget we haven't always known each other sometimes." Alya shrugged, returning to her sandwich.

Nino spoke around his chips. "So, when's your first meeting?"

"Tonight."

Alya knocked an empty bottle over as she was reaching for Marinette's arm. "Marinette, you could've told us sooner! Do you want someone to go with you?"

"I-I mean, I don't want to be a burden on you guys. Like, you can if you want, but you definitely don't have to."

"Doll, I have nothing going on tonight. I would love to go and support you." Alya smiled at her. "I can wait outside and work on the Ladyblog for as long as it takes. Unless you want me in there with you, of course."

"I'm not sure." Marinette looked back at her food, feeling overwhelmed.

Adrien cleared his throat. "Nathalie went in on the first two or three with me, but she just dropped me off after that. It was good for me to have someone there the first few times so I could get used to it, but it also felt restricting, like I couldn't be open without it coming back to bite me on the ass. Asking her to wait outside and talking without fear of judgment was really freeing. Ah, shit. I'm rambling. Sorry about that. Where was I even going with this?"

"Rest assured that literally nobody here knows, dude." Nino threw a chip at him, laughing. "We get it, nerd. You liked group therapy."

Marinette watched them bicker, quietly tucking her sandwich back into its wrapper; anxiety made her lose her appetite.

Alya stood, drawing all attention to herself. "I should go check in with the twins; they were sick earlier, and they're alone until my mom comes home. Nettie, I'll see you later. I'll meet you at your house. Wait, is mine on the way? You know what, text me, and we'll come up with a plan later." Alya bent over and planted a kiss on each of their heads in turn, snickering as Nino tried to shake her off. "Love you, nerds."

They gave a chorus of "Love you toos" and returned to their picnic, Marinette never quite relaxing.


Alya read the directions on her phone, holding Marinette's hand on their way up to the fourth floor.

Marinette tried to control her breathing, panic welling up in her chest.

Alya squeezed her hand, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm proud of you, you know."

Marinette looked back at her, pressing her lips together while she considered her response. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." They walked up to the door where Alya squeezed her hand one last time. "I'll be in the Starbucks downstairs if you need me, and I'll have my phone on the whole time, okay?"

Marinette nodded. "Okay. Wish me luck."

They waved, and Marinette turned to the door and opened it with a great sigh.

"Hi!" Two cheery faces greeted her, but the room was otherwise empty. "Can we help you?"

"I-I'm here for the support group?"

"Survivors of suicide, right."

Marinette's breath caught in her chest. "That's...Oh, am I in the wrong place?"

"We talk about our loved ones whom we've lost to suicide."

She felt like she might cry, but no tears came to her eyes. "I'm definitely in the wrong place. I-I'm sorry. The description wasn't very clear, it just said 'Suicide Support Group' on the website."

The man looked at her kindly. "We keep telling them that it needs to be changed. But maybe you can tell us what your problem is, and we can direct you to the right place."

Marinette wanted to run out of there. "I...I'm, um…" She took a deep breath, trying to quell her nerves. "I'm suicidal, and I thought this would be the place to come and talk about it, so now I'm a little lost and now I'm starting to ramble and I'm sorry."

They looked like they might panic. "Are you going to do anything about it right now?"

Marinette threw her hands up, defensive. "No, no. I'm sorry for wasting your time." She turned and fled down the stairs, altogether too numb to process it correctly.

Alya spotted her and got up from her chair. "What are you doing down so soon?"

Marinette shook her head. "It was for survivors of suicide. Like, if you've lost someone to suicide."

Alya wrapped her arms around her. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I was afraid of something like that happening."

Marinette shrugged a little. "Can we just go?"

"Of course. Wanna walk around the Trocadero for a while? It might be crowded, but at least it's still doing something."

Marinette nodded. "Yeah, I like that idea."

Alya's phone beeped, prompting her to let go of Marinette and look at it. "Huh. Akuma at the Trocadero. If you want, I'll drop you off at your house on the way."

"Please do." Seriously? Fuck you, Hawkmoth.


A/N: Well, now that the ML content blackout is over, here's another chapter of this one. Be on the lookout for another chapter of Fashion Faux Paws, too.

I'm crazy tired so this is probably nonsense BUT I'd like to thank my amazing Hufflepuff squad Leisey and livinglittlelie for supporting me in this and laughing and cheering me up and generally being gems about this whole thing (here's something I said to them earlier: "Also, in case anybody missed the memo, writing a fic about depression is, in fact, kinda depressing" and they just always make sure I'm okay and I really appreciate that). So yeah I love them and go check them out

Also I'd really love your feedback on this story even though it's a sensitive topic, so please feel free to leave something down below (even if it's just a thumbs up or something; I'm not picky). Or if you wanna talk about anything, feel free to find me at miraculousbuttercup on tumblr.

Yep love you people

xoxo -wwot